


Mixtape

by camdynisc0nfused



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi, One Shot Collection, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:40:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 9,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22837963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camdynisc0nfused/pseuds/camdynisc0nfused
Summary: An assortment of song fics for  an assortment of HP ships.
Relationships: Charlie Weasley/Original Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Track List

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first published work on AO3 but not the first one I've posted anywhere, I am, however, quite rusty so my work is probably not up to snuff at least by my own standards and I'd greatly appreciate constructive criticism. For the next six or so weeks, I'll be posting two one shots per week: one on Monday and one on Friday most likely. After that, it'll most likely be down to one per week on Fridays unless inspiration is rife or completely nonexistent. Kudos and comments are, of course, greatly appreciated.

**Track One** Love You Goodbye: Dramione angst **Run Time** 971 words

**Track Two** Die From a Broken Heart: CharliexOC background **Run Time** 407 words

**Track Three** Watermelon Sugar: BillxFleur meet cute **Run Time** 322 words

**Track Four** The Night Before (Life Goes On): Jily muggle/uni AU with angst **Run Time** 304 words

**Track Five** War Pigs: TheoxOC gray/dark magic AU **Run Time** 1337 words

**Track Six** Peach Scone: one sided CharliexTonks, RemusxTonks muggle AU **Run Time** 476 words

**Track Seven** More: Romione angst, miscarriage TW **Run Time** 435 words

**Track Eight** Love Is On the Radio: ArthurxMolly fluffy muggle AU **Run Time** 316 words

**Track Nine** Lover: Theomione muggle AU **Run Time** 627 words

**Track Ten** Youth: FredxOC post-BOH angst ft. ghost!Fred **Run Time** 1124 words

**Track Eleven** Leave The Pieces: CharliexOC breakup **Run Time** 524 words

**Track Twelve** Black Velvet: Sirius Black character study, major character death **Run Time** 383 words

**Track Thirteen** Soon You'll Get Better: Scorpius-centric ft. sick!Astoria, major character death **Run Time** 857 words

**Track Fourteen** Sinners Like Me: Bill and Charlie-centric **Run Time** 361 words

**Track Fifteen** Turning Tables: Lavender-centric, post Battle of Hogwarts **Run Time** 457 words

**Track Sixteen** Two Ghosts: Nottgrass, break up AU **Run Time** 810 words

**Track Seventeen** A Trophy Father’s Trophy Son: Slytherin boys and their dad’s, minor character death **Run Time** 1,474 words

**Track Eighteen** Why We Ever: Petunia-centric, angst, major character death **Run Time** 1,781 words

**Track Nineteen** Close As Strangers: Dramione, band!AU, angst with a happy ending **Run Time** 1,929 words

**Track Twenty** Blame It On September: TheoxDraco, fluff and angst, secret relationship **Run Time** 851 words


	2. Love You Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dramione breakup

> Oh, why you wearing that to walk out of my life?  
>  Oh, even though it's over you should stay tonight/If tomorrow you won't be mine, won't you give it to me one last time?  
>  Oh, baby, let me love you goodbye, oh, baby, let me love you goodbye  
>  _One Direction, Love You Goodbye_  
> 

Draco loved that dress. She had worn it on their first date and had rendered him speechless and she had worn that dress on almost all of their anniversaries. She looked good in red, always had even at school. He remembered his absolutely pitiful attempts to hide his feelings for her from his parents, knowing that they’d never approve of her or her blood status. He remembered his shitty attempts to help her, to distance himself from her. And now here she was in the dress he loved so much, breaking his heart. “I’m sorry Draco,” Hermione said as she laid her hand over his. Draco let out a mirthless laugh.

“No you’re not,” he said. “If you were sorry you wouldn’t be wearing that. If you were sorry you’d give me a reason for breaking up with me, an actual reason not some shite about our relationship having run its course.” The breath he drew in was uneven and raspy with the tears he held at bay.

“Draco-“

“Don’t, please don’t.” Draco raked a hand through his hair with another shuddering breath. “It’s Weasley isn’t it? He’s finally gotten his head out of his arse and now you’ve decided that he’s a better option than me. That he could love you better than I can.”

“That is-“

“Not true? Hippogryph shite? The farthest thing from the truth? What is it Hermione? What line are you going to feed me this time? I’ve loved you for so long it’s pathetic and now I’m being cast aside with pretty words and an insincere apology. Why I didn’t see this coming I’ve no clue.” Draco’s hands clenched and unclenched around the fabric of his trousers as he struggled to continue. “Just, one more night. One more dinner or movie or something. Please.”

“Draco-“

“Mia please.” The tears that he had been holding back welled up, threatening to spill over. “Please.” Hermione sighed as she studied his face, sighed like he was a chore. And he guessed that’s what he was to her now, a chore to finish quickly and then move on from in order to find better things to do.

“I can’t, Draco. If I said yes to that I’d forget why this has to happen.” Draco scoffed.

“Right, I guess this is it then huh? This is the moment you walk out of my life and I get to start picking up the pieces.”

“I really am sorry Draco.” She was sorry? He was sorry that he had ever thought their relationship could end in anything other than his heart breaking.

“Right.” Draco watched as Hermione stood and made her way to the floo, head held high and not an inch of remorse in her appearance. When she disappeared behind the green flames of the floo, Draco stood from the couch and made his way to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of firewhisky. He drank in one gulp, refilling it almost as soon as it hit the top of the sideboard. Just as he brought the glass to his lips, the floo roared to life. He turned, expecting Blaise or Theo or maybe even Pansy, and his gaze landed on Hermione as she stepped back out of the floo. “What? Come to say it was all some shitty joke?” She flinched slightly before taking a deep breath.

“One more night,” she said quietly. “One more night of us and then we go our separate ways.” Draco scoffed as he downed the firewhisky in his glass.

“And what makes you think that that ship hasn’t sailed, huh? What makes you think that I’ll say yes?”

“Because I know you Draco, you don’t want this to end without you getting in the last word.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. It’s not about getting the last word, it’s about how it ends. I don’t want this to end with me getting so drunk I end up at St. Mungo’s, I want this to end with me saying goodbye. I want to love you goodbye, not sit there and watch you walk out of my life.”

“Then do it, love me goodbye.” Draco studied Hermione, imagining that just for a night she was still his witch. He sat his glass on the sidebar and strode across the room, cupping her face in his hands when he came to a stop in front of her. His eyes searched her face before he surged forward and pressed his lips to hers. Their lips worked furiously against each other, Draco’s hands entangling in Hermione’s hair while she let her hands rest on his hips.

“Why?” Draco asked when he pulled back, tears beginning to fall from his eyes. “Why do you insist on making me love you when I know I shouldn’t?”

“Oh Draco-“

“I love you. Don’t leave me, please. Whatever it is we’ll work through it, I promise. Just please, give us another chance.” Hermione gently wiped the tears from his face, only for them to be quickly replaced by more. Draco leaned into the warmth of her palm as he hiccuped. “Mia please.”

“I can’t Draco.” Draco wasn’t sure if he was seeing things or if she had begun to cry too.

“Why not? No excuses, I want the truth.”

“I don’t love you anymore.”

“But you could, you could. People do this all the time. They do things that they’ve always wanted to do together, they remember why they fell in love in the first place, they talk to counselors. Mia please, we can fix this. We can fix us.”

“We need a break, Draco. I think that’ll help more than any of those other things.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then we know that this was never meant to be. Now please, Draco, love me goodbye.” He supposed he could do that.


	3. Die From a Broken Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre CharliexOC, OC(Maebh) talks to Molly about a breakup, muggle AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name Maebh is Irish and is pronounced may-v.

> How does he sleep at night?  
> Momma, the nerve of this guy  
> To leave me so easy  
> Am I gonna be alright?  
>  _Maddie & Tae, Die From A Broken Heart_

It hurt, everything hurt. Her chest, her head, her throat, her heart. The sun wasn’t helping in the slightest either and neither was the sound of the phone ringing as she waited for Molly to pick up. “Maebh,” Molly said when she finally answered, “how are you?”

“Not good,” Maebh sniffled.

“Oh sweetheart, what happened?”

“He broke up with me.” Molly clucked motherly and the sound of her settling on the couch reached Maebh’s ears. “He just...left Molly. He said some really terrible things and, of course, I’m not completely blameless but I didn’t say anything half as bad as he did. Molly, he wanted me to choose between him and Charlie. How am I supposed to do that?”

“Well what did you say when he said that?”

“I told him that I couldn’t. Charlie’s my best friend I can’t just ditch him. And I really thought that Bryan was the one, however cheesy that sounds. He, Molly, he called me a slag.”

“Well I never!” Maebh winced at Molly’s raised voice, making her way to the kitchen to find a couple paracetamol to try and temper down her steadily worsening migraine.

“Also, how do you get red wine out of light fabrics? I may have spilled a bit on my favorite dress.” Molly chuckled a bit.

“Bring it over later today and I’ll show you, dear. Anything you need, love, anything at all, Arthur and I are here to help.” Maebh nodded as she placed the paracetamol in her mouth and raised a glass of water to her mouth so that she could swallow them.

“Well, my door is a bit wonky. He slammed it pretty hard and it hasn’t been closing right. And I, I don’t think I can be alone right now.” Molly clucked again.

“I’ll have Arthur go and look at it after his meeting there in London and when he comes by he’ll pick you up and bring you here. How does that sound?”

“It sounds lovely, I could go for some time back home.”

“Brilliant. You’ll be okay, Maebh, you’re a strong girl. And he didn’t deserve you anyways. Making you choose between him and Charlie, he should be ashamed.” She sure didn’t feel like it in that moment, but Maebh truly believed that if Molly said she’d be okay then she would be. Hell, she’ll probably be more than okay once she stepped over the threshold of The Burrow.


	4. Watermelon Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BillxFleur muggle AU meet cute, same sorta universe as Die From A Broken Heart

> Tastes like strawberries on a summer evenin'  
>  And it sounds just like a song  
>  I want more berries and that summer feelin'  
>  It's so wonderful and warm  
>  _Harry Styles, Watermelon Sugar ___

_  
___  
  


__Bill loved his job, he did, but right now he loved his vacation time a hell of a lot more. Sure, he was doing what he’d wanted to do since he had seen the first Mummy movie but he was much happier to be spending his time in Saint-Tropez. Especially since he currently had a lap full of very pretty, very sweet French girl. He hadn’t been prepared when the blonde had fallen into his lap but he wasn’t about to complain anytime soon. She was currently laughing, a beautiful sound that was just like a song, and he couldn’t help but join in. “Oh,” she giggled, “je suis désolé.”_ _

__“Tu vas bien,” he said, extremely conscious of his poor accent._ _

__“Ah, English?”_ _

__“Yeah.” When she didn’t make a move to get up, Bill found it extremely hard not to place his hands on her waist._ _

__“Fleur Delacour.”_ _

__“Bill Weasley.” Fleur smiled a smile that knocked the breath out of Bill’s lungs._ _

__“Zis may be, ‘ow you say, forward, but I would very much like to exchange numbers. Zat is ze term, no?”_ _

__“Yes, it’s definitely the term. I’d, um, I’d like that.”_ _

__“Oh, bien. I will be right back.” Fleur sprung up and hurried away, coming back soon after with her phone in her hand. Instead of sitting beside Bill, she sat back down in his lap with a confidence that made his heart speed up. She held the phone out to Bill with a smile that only widened as he took it in his hand and typed his number into the new contact page. “Merci. I will speak to you later, no?”_ _

__“Definitely.” Fleur pressed a kiss to his cheek before bounding off, leaving Bill warmer than even the summer sun could. Some baser part of him wondered what she tasted like. Strawberries, he thought. Definitely strawberries. And a couple nights later he learned that he was very much correct._ _


	5. The Night Before (Life Goes On)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jily muggle/uni AU, mildly angsty?

> They take one last drive around town  
> And man, it already looks different  
> He bangs the wheel and says, "life ain't fair  
> And this growing up stuff man, I don't know  
> I just don't wanna let you go"  
>  _Carrie Underwood, The Night Before (Life Goes On)_

The night was silent, the only substantial amount of light coming from the city of Manchester somewhere to the north. “So,” James said as they stared at the city lights in the distance, “University of Manchester. You excited?”

“Yeah,” Lily said as she turned James’ lighter over in her hand for the nth time. “I’ll miss you though. I miss you now.”

“Hey look at it this way, you’ll be getting away from here.”

“It won’t be the same without you.” James let the hand that held his lit cigarette rest on the roof and looped his other arm around her waist.

“I’ll be waiting right here for you Lils, no matter what. You never know, maybe I’ll move to Manchester in a couple years with the lads and everything’ll be like normal.”

“That’s a big maybe though.”

“Well Miss Art History Major, us Marauders thrive on big maybes.” Lily laughed shallowly, tears rolling down her cheeks and darkening the grey cotton of James’ t-shirt where the land. “C’mon love, one last drive?” Lily nodded, following James as he climbed down off of the roof. The drive through their little hometown seemed almost off, like Cokeworth had lost any bits of color it possessed as it got closer to the moment that Lily left. As they passed the park that they had had their first kiss in, James’ hand came down heavy on the steering wheel. “I hate this, all of this. When we were younger, all we wanted was to grow up and get out of here and now I don’t know why I even wanted that. Not if it means letting you go.”

Lily let her forehead rest on James’ bicep, a sob racking her body. “I don’t wanna go Jamie, I really don’t.”

“I don’t want you to go either Lils.”


	6. War Pigs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TheoxOC, Death Eater meeting paralleled by a blood ritual, italics are the ritual, TW: blood and nudity

> Generals gathered in their masses Just like witches at black masses Evil minds that plot destruction  
>  _Black Sabbath, War Pigs/Luke’s Wall_

Theo silently judged the predictability of the Dark Lord. Walpurgis Night was special, obviously, but it wasn’t special for wizards. Oh no, Walpurgis Night was for witches and somewhere in Yorkshire seven witches were preparing for a ritual. “You think they’ll be able to do it?” Draco whispered.

“Positive,” Theo replied. “Your cousin is leading them, when has she ever failed?” It was true, Calista Lestrange never failed. She did what she had to do and succeeded, always. Sure she might be ruthless, but it was needed in times such as these. Times where one couldn’t count on some so-called Chosen One to save you from a raging lunatic and instead had to take matters into one’s own hands. So at this very moment, while the formal dining room of Malfoy Manor was filling with Death Eaters, seven witches stood in a circle on the grounds of Nott Manor.

_The fire in the center burned bright, flames and sparks dancing in the air. Calista let her fingers caress the silver handle of the athame she had taken from her family vault as she looked at the other witches. Pansy Parkinson stood to her right and Luna Lovegood stood to her left, Hermione Granger stood directly across from her. The four of them each symbolized one of the four cardinal directions. Calista was north, Hermione south, Pansy west and Luna east. The Greengrass sisters and Fleur Weasley finished out the group, bringing them up to the most powerful number in magic. Seven. Calista could feel her magic swelling more and more as midnight neared, Walpurgis Night looming ever nearer. This ritual, no matter how daunting, was necessary to the defeat of the Dark Lord, and they would succeed._

Blaise sidled up to Theo and Draco. “Two minutes,” he said, hiding his mouth behind his glass. The other two nodded almost imperceptibly as they scanned the room. The three men looked around at the other dissenters present. The three eldest Weasleys stood towards the back of the room, Adrian Pucey and Cormac McLaggen actually seemed to be getting along near one of the windows, Neville Longbottom stood alone beside a ficus, Thorfinn Rowle and Antonin Dolohov were speaking in hushed tones with Draco’s parents. Thirteen people currently in the room to make sure all went smoothly on their end, thirteen people who waited with baited breath and wands at the ready. “Oh look, here he comes.” The Dark Lord swept in, black robes sweeping across the floor as he went. “One minute until midnight, lads.”

_“One minute,” Luna’s voice called into the night. The witches stilled even more so than they previously were. Calista gripped the handle of the athame tightly in her hand as they waited for midnight to strike. When it finally did, the air became charged with electricity and the first breaths of wind began to fan across their faces._

_“Sanguinem sororibus,” Calista intoned as she held her wand hand out, making an incision across her palm with the athame and allowing her blood to drip onto the grass. She passed the blade to her left, repeating the chant as each of the others joined her until their voices raised as one over the steadily worsening wind._

_“Nihil latet in sempiternum,” the witches chorused. “Nihil est sempiternum. Necesse est finem vitae. Dominus est terminae tenebris. Terminus ejus invenire quassaque cum eis. Terminus ejus immortalitatis. Libera nos a malo. Libera nos a malo. Libera nos a malo.” The wind picked up even more, whipping their hair around their faces and causing the flames to jump and flicker. At any other time, Calista might feel cold or maybe even a bit bashful while standing naked where people who were decidedly not her betrothed could see. But this was different, everything about this was different. As the wound on her hand sealed and her body was forced into movement by an outside force, Calista could swear that she heard an army of female voices raise up and when the flames began to take shape she knew she had._

_Freyja, the Morrigan, Morgana, Circe, Diana, Selene, Hecate, Persephone, Nimue, she knew those women. Goddesses and powerful witches alike danced in the flames, their voices and laughter surrounding the seven witches. They spoke different languages, but they all said the same thing. End him._

The room shook violently and glasses and plates dropped to the floor. Even Narcissa, unshakable Narcissa, stumbled slightly. Windows shattered inward, spraying glass over the room, and female voices raised. “I think it’s safe to say that they succeeded,” Draco said. The voices spoke as one, filling the room. There was a high pitched screaming from a room somewhere down the hall, and the dining room’s occupants watched as the Dark Lord began to contort in pain. Laughter joined the voices, a laughter that sent a chill down everyone’s spines. Suddenly, a form manifested in the center of the room. Theo whistled lowly when he realized that it was Calista. “Oh gross, I didn’t need to see my cousin naked.”

“Lucky man Theo,” Blaise whispered, “lucky man.” The voices flowed forth from Calista’s mouth, each one speaking their respective language. Calista’s voice had been added, along with what seemed like the voices of the other witches who had participated in the ritual. Wordless shield charms went up around her as the thirteen dissenters let their wands drop into their hands. The outermost one was one of Dolohov’s creations, a shield charm strong enough to withstand any of the Unforgivables. Theo sucked in a panicked breath as he watched Calista’s back bend backwards so quickly it must have hurt even through this almost possession. Her eyes rolled back into her head as her voice grew gravely and then turned into a shrill scream. Shadowy versions of animals ran around the perimeter of the room, quickly growing to a fever pitch. Crows, cats, boar, falcons, leopards, hunting dogs, horses, Theo was sure that there were others but he was too preoccupied with maintaining his shield charm to really pay attention.

All at once, the shadows grew still and Calista stopped speaking. Then, as one, the shadows rushed towards the Dark Lord’s body and Calista straightened up at the same speed that she had bent backwards. The entire room watched as the shadows barreled into the Dark Lord, drawing screams so terrible that even Dolohov cringed. When they finally dissipated, the Dark Lord was huddled on the floor. Calista spoke, the army of voices that spoke through her filling the room in their many languages. Calista’s voice was clearest and one of the few in English. “He who has forsaken magic is gone,” she said. “The world has been cleansed of his darkness and now can begin anew. Heed the power of the witch.” A long, broken gasp left her lips and she collapsed to the floor. In the stunned silence, Theo barreled forward to where she lay. He cradled her limp body to his chest, only relaxing when he heard her breathing. As her eyes fluttered open, Theo heard his name called.

“Theo!” Blaise yelled. “Get her out of here!” Theo didn’t have to be told twice, apparating her to his bedroom in Nott Manor and away from the inevitable fight.

“Did it work?” Calista rasped.

“Did it work? Of course it worked,” Theo said. “Scared the shite out of me, but it definitely worked.” Calista nodded and pulled Theo down beside her on the bed. “Love I have to go back and help.” Calista whined petulantly and Theo smiled at the fact that he was one of the only people to ever get to see her like this, all pliant and gentle.

“At least tell the girls that it worked. And give me a kiss before you go.” Theo smiled gently, sending off a quick patronus to the waiting witches before pressing a soft kiss to Calista’s lips. With a promise to be back soon, Theo apparated back to Malfoy Manor to finish what the girls had started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...it’s been awhile. I’m gonna be honest, I was lazy that’s why I haven’t updated in awhile. Also it’s too much work to translate all of the Latin since I was stupid and didn’t write its meaning down so to paraphrase, it’s mainly saying that everything has an end and that Voldemort and his reign must end too but they need the help of the witches/goddesses they’re calling upon to do so. So...yeah.


	7. Peach Scone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One sided CharliexTonks, requited TonksxRemus, muggle AU

> She was so nice and cared about me, no one else did Literally, I don't think I've ever felt love before that She's a peach...scone  
>  _Hobo Johnson, Peach Scone_

Charlie had been in love with his best friend for as long as he could remember. He could still remember meeting little Nymphadora Tonks in kindergarten, the two instantly becoming friends. Ever since then it had been the two of them: Charlie and Dora, best friends forever. He didn’t realize that he liked her until he left for uni, but he was sure that when he finished uni that he’d be able to make his move. Charlie loved the way that she had always made sure he knew that she cared, even if it seemed like no one else did. Plus she was so nice, insanely nice, and he was sure that he hadn’t felt love like that in his entire life. She was a peach, and he was sure that she thought the same of him.

But when he came back to their little corner of England after uni, all of his lofty dreams of sweeping her off her feet were squashed. He walked into the house he had grown up in, smiling widely when he saw Dora talking to the twins. Her hair was that same shade of bubblegum pink it had been since they graduated sixth form and she still dressed like a punk rocker but she looked different, happier almost. That stupid, lovesick part of him sang with joy at the prospect of it being because she was happy that he was home and that she might love him just as much as he loved her. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of an engagement ring on her left ring finger that Charlie realized that it had nothing to do with him.

“Woah,” he said, taking her left hand in both of his, “when did this happen?” He heard Bill begin to shuffle his feet next to him, clearing his throat awkwardly at what was sure to crush Charlie.

“Well I got engaged last month,” Dora said, beaming. “But we’ve been together for about a year.” A year, she had been in a relationship for a year and no one had told him. Charlie felt his heart squeeze painfully.

“That’s great Dora. He makes you happy, right? I’ll kick his arse if he doesn’t, y’know?” Dora laughed.

“He’s brilliant Charlie, truly. I’ve never been happier.” That last sentence swam around Charlie’s head, distracting him for the rest of the night. Even the prospect of his upcoming move abroad for his dream job couldn’t break through the fog that Charlie swam in. And when he finally met Remus, he had to admit that the guy was pretty great. And Dora loved him so much that Charlie knew that he would never have a chance. So when he left for Romania, ready to start his career, his heart was much heavier than it should’ve been. He just hoped that he’d get over this.


	8. More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romione, TW: miscarriage

> Lyin' awake, and I stare at the door  
>  I just can't take it no more  
>  They told me it's useless, there's no hope in store  
>  But somehow I just want you more  
>  _Halsey, More_

Hermione’s eyes were trained on the bedroom door, unseeing. It was late, just how late she wasn’t sure, and she couldn’t find it in herself to sleep. Three months, it was the longest she had carried a child for and she had lost it. She felt like a failure, like nothing she did would make her able to carry a child to term. Ron had held her as she cried, his own tears running down his face. She had been told that there was a chance that she couldn’t have kids after the torture she had endured, but she didn’t think that her fertility issues would manifest in such a painful way. She knew that Ron was awake too, the room devoid of his snoring. “Mione,” he whispered.

“Yeah?” Hermione asked, her voice cracking.

“We don’t have to try again if you don’t want to. We could adopt, or be the cool aunt and uncle who spoil all of the nieces and nephews.” Hermione nodded slightly as Ron laced his fingers through hers. “This doesn’t make me love you any less, y’know? I don’t care that they say you can’t have kids, you’re my girl.” A sob burst past Hermione’s lips and she turned into Ron, burying her face in his chest.

“Why does this keep happening? Why can’t we just be happy?” Ron smoothed his free hand over her hair as he cooed reassuringly.

“Mione, love, we’ve got each other don’t we? I’m pretty damn happy about that.” Hermione giggled slightly, the sound coming across as pitiful as it was garbled by her tears.

“One more time. Let’s try one more time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. It’s just made me want this more.”

“One more time, then.”

> And when you decide it's your time to arrive  
>  I've loved you for all of my life  
>  And nothing could stop me from giving a try  
>  I've loved you for all of my life 

Hermione stared down at the pink bundle in her arms, tears streaming down her face. She’d done it, she’d carried a baby to term. “She’s beautiful Mione,” Ron said as he gently ran his index finger over their daughter’s tiny nose. Hermione nodded, awestruck as she watched her daughter smack her lips in her sleep. “What are we going to name her?” The memory of a flower bud lying on the pavement came to mind and Hermione knew the perfect name for the baby in her arms.

“Rose,” she whispered. “We’ll name her Rose.”

“Rose.” Ron’s finger moved to trace over the cheekbones hidden behind soft baby fat. “Rosie Posie.” Hermione giggled as she dropped a kid to Rose’s forehead. “You’re brilliant Mione, absolutely brilliant.” Hermione looked up at her husband whose eyes were wide with love as they brimmed with tears.

“Always the tone of surprise.”


	9. Love Is On The Radio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ArthurxMolly, background BillxFleur muggle AU, same universe as Die From A Broken Heart & Watermelon Sugar

> Funny one thing led to another,  
>  You came along, filled my days with colour  
>  And it’s been an everlasting summer,  
>  Since we found each other  
>  _McFly, Love Is On The Radio_

Molly couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t loved Arthur, it was as if she was born loving him. Even now, thirty years and seven children later, she loved Arthur just as much as she did at eighteen when she said I do. Arthur had come along with his easy smile and his confusing technobabble and swept her off her feet, filling her world with colors she didn’t know existed until then. He felt like summer, no matter how cold and dreary the weather outside was. And now, at forty-eight, Molly swayed with Arthur as they watched their eldest dance with his new bride.

She had to admit, she wasn’t very fond of the girl when she’d first met her but now she understood why Bill was so taken with her. She was smart enough to understand exactly what Bill and Arthur were on about when they talked about Physics, something that still evaded Molly after all this time, and she added little tidbits that made both men really think. Plus she loved Bill, scars and all. Never once had Fleur made it seem like she found Bill’s scars unattractive or a dealbreaker, in fact she loved them. She said that they showed everyone how strong he was. And Molly had to agree, not everyone came out of a car crash like the one Bill had with naught but a few scars. So while she hadn’t initially cared for her son’s new bride, she now understood that they were sort of like her and Arthur. In it for the long haul, no matter what life throws at them.

“Where’d you go Mollywobbles?” Arthur asked, giving her hand a quick squeeze. She looked up at her husband with a bright smile, tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m just so happy,” she said. Arthur chuckled and placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Me too, love, me too.”


	10. Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theomione, muggle AU, same universe as Die FromA Broken Heart, Watermelon Sugar, and Love Is On The Radio

> And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear  
>  Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?  
>  _Taylor Swift, Lover_

Hermione could still remember the day she met Theo with a startling clarity. Well, they had met before, but it was only in passing back in school. At that point, Theo was quiet and blended into the background in a way that was more down to his lanky and awkward personage at the time than a strategic thing like it was now. Now, Theo hangs back because it helps him read the room and puts him at an advantage, or so he says. Hermione knew that he did it because he’d always felt more comfortable blending into the crowd, a side effect of a childhood spent in fear of his own father. But no matter how hard Theo tries to blend in, he’s the only thing that Hermione really ever sees and the night they were reintroduced was a testament to that.

She had gone out to the local pub with her friends to celebrate Harry and Ron’s graduation from the police academy and Theo had been there to celebrate the graduation of a few of his friends. She remembered how shocked she was to see Harry and Ron getting along with Draco Malfoy of all people, even more shocked to see Ron making out with Pansy Parkinson in the hallway down to the bathrooms, somehow even more shocked to see Harry and Ginny flirting shamelessly with both Blaise Zabini and each other, but she remembered seeing Theo best. He was sat in the back corner of a booth, right arm laying across the back of the seat and slouched ever so slightly in a way that was somehow both relaxed and powerful. It was the perfect posture for a rebel without a cause upper echelon heir and Hermione’s very tipsy brain just knew that his legs were spread just enough for her to be able to fit between them.

Theo had scanned the room with those blue eyes of his that could stop anyone in their tracks, resting on her for just a fraction longer than anyone else. Tipsy Hermione was a lot braver than sober Hermione and so, naturally, she had made her way over to him and slid into the booth he occupied. He had raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow at her as he raised his glass to his lips. “Hermione Granger,” he had drawled while setting his glass down on the table, “to what do I owe this pleasure.”

“Nott, right?” she had asked, lifting her index finger off of her glass to point at him. “Theodore Nott.”

“At your service. I go by Theo though, I feel like a bloody ponce when people call me Theodore outside of work.”

“So, not like the chipmunk?” Theo had snorted at that, barely stopping himself from spitting out the sip of whisky he had just taken.

“No not like the bloody chipmunk Granger. Bloody hell, warn a bloke before you say something like that.” They had spent the rest of the night joking and flirting, getting steadily more and more pissed as the night went on until Hermione had woken up very much naked in Theo’s bed with his fingers skimming over her stomach. “This okay with you?” he had asked, his fingers inching further down.

“Very much so,” she had replied, spreading her legs.

“Good.” That morning, after she had come on his fingers once and his cock twice, Theo had made her breakfast before very surreptitiously asking her on a proper date the following weekend. It very quickly began to feel like she had known Theo for all her life. And even now, three years later and married with a baby on the way, Theo still dazzled her with that mysterious air about him that had drawn her in in the first place.


	11. Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FredxOC, angst with a little bit of fluff, ghost!Fred

> And if you're in love, then you are the lucky one  
>  'Cause most of us are bitter over someone  
>  Setting fire to our insides for fun  
>  To distract our hearts from ever missing them  
>  But I'm forever missing him  
>  _Daughter, Youth_

Celia twirled her ring around her finger, staring despondently at the scene before her. George was knelt on the ground before Fred’s headstone, sobbing as he struggled to say the things he wished he could tell his twin. The other Weasleys had already finished with their goodbyes and stood around in various states of mourning. When George stood, he turned to Celia and sniffled. “C’mon then Ce,” he said as he held a hand out to her. She walked over to him, grasping his hand as if it were a life preserver. George pressed a kiss to the top of her head before stepping back to join his family. “We’ll leave you to it.” Celia nodded, her eyes staying trained on the headstone before her as the pops of apparition signaled their departure.

“Oh Freddie,” she whispered as she lowered herself to the ground. She sat crisscross, pushing her skirt down between her legs in order to cover her knickers. She began to twirl her ring again as she sniffled. “I miss you so much love. It’s like, it’s like I can’t breathe without you here.” She brought her left hand up to trace the letters of his name. F-r-e-d-G-i-d-e-o-n-W-e-a-s-l-e-y. The ring on her hand glittered in the early May sunlight. “I put your ring on before they buried you. I know that we never actually got to be, but in my mind we’ve been married since you proposed. Maybe the next time I see you you’ll be wearing it, then we could finally get around to making it official.”

Celia hiccuped as she began to cry anew. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this without you Freddie. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, you don’t come back from that.” A breeze blew through her hair, bringing with it the smell of pine and gunpowder. “I’m smelling you now, I really am going mad.” She looked down at her lap, the smell that was so uniquely Fred still lingering. It was one of the easiest ways to tell the twins apart in her opinion. They both smelled of gunpowder, but Fred’s cologne smelled of pine while George’s smelled of cedar. Fred’s cologne still sat on their dresser, half full and almost taunting whenever her eyes landed on it. Celia had half a mind to stockpile it and spray it on everything she owned, having already cast a modified stasis charm on the shirt that he always wore to bed so that it never stopped smelling of him.

With a deep, shuddering breath, she looked up. Her eyes landed first on the headstone and then on the sight of a semi-transparent arm draped over the marble to her left. A semi-transparent arm with a familiar watch on its wrist and the most garish purple suit jacket she’d ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on. The hand attached to that arm sported a gold band on its ring finger. Celia traced her gaze up that arm to a broad chest and then up to an overwhelmingly familiar freckled face, complete with crooked smile and messy red hair. “Freddie,” she gasped, tears streaming down her face.

“CeCe,” Fred said, lifting his right hand to her face. His thumb gently skirted her cheek, doing nothing to disperse her tears and instead leaving her skin cold. “Damn, I was hoping to be all smooth with that.” Celia laughed through her tears before bringing her right hand up to touch the tips of her fingers to the tips of those on Fred’s left hand.

“I can actually touch you.”

“It’s like that movie you made me watch with you, Ghost.”

“Well I personally think you’re a right sight cuter than Patrick Swayze.”

“Fuck yeah! Take that Patrick Swayze!” Celia giggled as Fred pumped his first in the air.

“Your ghost _would_ be wearing that monstrosity you call a suit.”

“Oi, this suit is beautiful.”

“You look like Barney, love.” Fred threw his head back and laughed. That was the other easy way to tell the twins apart. When Fred laughed his head tilted back and he clapped, when George laughed he curled in on himself and hugged his stomach. Fred looked at Celia, his eyes dancing with mirth and uncharacteristically soft. This was her Fred, the one only she got to see. This was the Fred who would braid small strands of her hair while they cuddled on the couch, the Fred who awkwardly placed his grandma’s ring on the counter beside her while she made dinner and stuttered while he asked her to marry him, the Fred who would pull her to lay on top of him instead of beside him because she wasn’t close enough for his liking.

“I love you Celia, with everything I am. Which admittedly isn’t much since I’m dead, but the sentiment is there.” Celia giggled quietly. “You were it for me and I’ll be waiting for you, wherever I end up. But don’t think that you can’t move on, Merlin Ce, I _want_ you to move on. Find someone else who loves you and have a couple of kids, get a mastery or help George with the shop or just be a mum, whatever makes you happy. I don’t want you to waste your life away because I’m gone. I will _always_ love you and nothing will ever change that, not even you getting married to someone nowhere near as heart stoppingly handsome as me.” Fred closed his eyes and took in a shuddering breath. When he reopened his eyes, he smiled slightly. “Don’t let me hold you back darling.” Celia shook her head as she sobbed.

“I don’t want anyone else Freddie, I’ve loved you for so long I can’t imagine loving anyone else the way I love you.”

“Just try Ce, for me.” Celia startled as Fred began to fade.

“Freddie, Freddie don’t go. Please don’t go.”

“I love you Celia.”

“Freddie please.” When he was gone, Celia sobbed even harder. “Freddie come back, please come back.” She felt the light brush of slightly chapped lips on her cheek and the barely there scraping of Fred’s calloused fingers against the back of her hand as she cried. She looked back at the marble headstone that marked the final resting place of her fiancé, sobbing through a laugh at the sight of a magpie perched on top of it. The bird cocked its head to the side before gently cawing and taking flight. Celia found herself pulling her wand out of the pocket of her coat. “Expecto Patronum,” she whispered. A glowing magpie flew from her wand and followed the path of the one that had just left. “I love you Freddie.”


	12. Leave The Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CharliexOC, angst, breakup

> There's nothing you can do or say  
>  You're gonna break my heart anyway  
>  So just leave the pieces when you go  
>  _The Wreckers, Leave The Pieces_

The sound of Charlie’s trunk landing on the ground with a thunk seemed to echo in the still of the early morning. Allie looked over at him, cataloguing every part of him that she could see from the subtle wave of his hair to the way his chest tapered ever so slightly down to his waist to the way he put slightly more weight on his left leg than his right when he stood still, a holdover from a quidditch injury back in third year. He turned back to look at her, nodding towards the orchard. Allie nodded and followed him, shoving her hands in the pockets of her shorts so as to avoid any awkwardness. Charlie knocked his shoulder into hers lightly as they disappeared between the trees. “I’m gonna miss you,” he said.

“Is that supposed to make this easier Charlie?” Allie asked as she kicked a rock, sending it flying further down the row. Charlie sighed heavily and raked a hand through his hair.

“No, no I guess not.” Allie huffed and stopped in her tracks.

“Listen, Charlie, I get that this is your dream and all but there’s no way that this is going to work when you’re all the way in Romania. You can’t seriously believe that I’ll be cool with sitting here and waiting for you to one day in the distant future decide that you’re ready to come back here or to settle down.”

“I don’t think that.”

“Then why are we lying to ourselves Charlie?”

“I don’t know Allie. Fuck, I just-I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it. Dragging this whole thing out will hurt me a whole lot more than just breaking up with me will.”

“Saying that we’re breaking up makes it seem permanent.”

“Oh really Charlie, is there any doubt in your mind that it won’t be? This entire year has just been us skirting around the fact that once you leave our lives go in completely different directions. Besides, no matter if we try to make this work somehow or we break up the whole situation is going to suck. My heart is going to break regardless, Charlie, but there’s an easy way and a hard way to go about this and I can only come back from one.” Charlie sighed as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Okay. Just-can I kiss you, one last time?” Allie looked up at Charlie, feeling tears prick at the back of her eyes.

“Yeah, one last time.” Charlie lifted his hands to her cheeks, cupping her face gently. He leaned down and pressed a tentative kiss to her lips, smiling bittersweetly when her hands tangled in his hair. Their lips slotted together in a way that made it seem like they fit together perfectly, tongues delicately exploring each other’s mouths as they so often did. Charlie nipped lightly at her lips once, twice, three times before he pulled back. When Allie’s eyes fluttered open and locked onto Charlie’s, she felt her heart shatter into a million pieces at the conflicted and sad look they held. She just hoped that he’d leave all of the pieces when he left.


	13. Black Velvet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius Black character study

> Black velvet  
> And that little boy's smile  
> Black velvet  
> With that slow southern style  
> A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees  
> Black velvet if you please  
>  _Alannah Myles, Black Velvet_

From the first time he had listened to muggle music, Sirius was hooked. The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Fleetwood Mac, Queen, The Sex Pistols, any rock band you could think of he loved. But he especially loved Elvis. He couldn’t explain why, but he had been drawn in by The King the first time he had heard Love Me Tender when Lily had shown the movie to he and the boys. He popped his collar, he learned the lyrics to every song, he perfected the blue steel, Sirius did his damndest to emulate Elvis. Hell, he even saw himself in him sometimes. The love of music, the yearning for something bigger, the girls, the alcohol. Not many things helped keep Sirius sane during the twelve long years that he had wasted away in Azkaban, but the near constant loop of Jailhouse Rock that was only broken up by Johnny Cash’s Folsom Prison Blues sure helped.

The moment he had stepped foot in Grimmauld Place, he had dug his record player out and set it up. He sent Moony out to find every single Elvis album he could find and sequestered himself in his room with a bottle of firewhisky and The King’s rich baritone. At one point during that long, lonely summer, Hermione had sat a record in front of him while he sat at the dining table eating breakfast. “The first song is about Elvis,” she had said when he had looked from her to the vinyl and back, “Black Velvet.” He had taken it upstairs and sat it carefully on the old Victrola, placing the needle down on the record ever so gently. The bass and the drum filled his chest and he found himself lost in the music. It became something that he interspersed hours long Elvis marathons with, something that he found comfort in in some strange way.

As he fought down in the bowels of the Ministry, he found that the bridge of that song filled his head as his eyes were drawn to the flash of light that Bellatrix’s wand gave off in his direction. As it hit his shoulder and sent him stumbling through the veil, the last lines of the bridge seemed to make some sort of macabre sense to him. Gone in a flash indeed.


	14. Soon You’ll Get Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sickfic, Scorpius centric, TW: illness related death

> You'll get better soon  
> 'Cause you have to  
> And I hate to make this all about me  
> But who am I supposed to talk to?  
> What am I supposed to do  
> If there's no you?  
>  _Taylor Swift ft. The Dixie Chicks Soon You’ll Get Better_

Twelve was much too young to lose a parent. Of course, Scorpius knew that people lost parents when they were much younger but this was his mother not anyone else’s. It was hard to stomach the fact that his mother was dying when it felt like just yesterday she was chasing him around the back garden while he hovered above the ground on his training broom. It had been a week since his father had brought him home from school because she was getting worse. Once they had reached St. Mungo’s he had crawled into his mother’s hospital bed and curled into her side, his head on her chest and his right hand clasping her left. Her right arm has wrapped around his body but her hand had clasped his father’s instead of resting on his back. “You’ll be okay mum,” he had whispered, “you have to.”

“Scorp,” his father had admonished through the tears he held back.

“No, she has to.” Now she was home, but not because she was doing better. No, she was doing worse and Scorpius had taken up permanent residence in the middle of his parents’ bed, snuggled up between the two of them. Scorpius has never been selfish, or at least not as selfish as his father had been at his age, but he couldn’t help it right now. To be frank, he needed her to get better because without her there wouldn’t be anyone to talk to about the things he didn’t want to share with his father. If his mother wasn’t there he wouldn’t have anyone but his father to turn to, and while he loved his father he had to admit that he was a huge mummy’s boy. As he sat propped up against the headboard and watched his mother sleep, something that she seemed to be doing more often than not nowadays, there was a knock on the door before it opened.

“Hey kid,” his Uncle Theo said as he leant against the doorframe.

“Hi,” Scorpius muttered.

“Come with me real quick, we’ll be back before she wakes up.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Scorpius gingerly crawled off the bed, kissing his mother’s cheek before making his way to his uncle. Once they were out in the hall, the door shut softly behind them, his uncle slung his arm around his shoulder and steered him out to the little lake in the back garden. They sat on the grass and Scorpius picked at individual blades as Theo stared across the water at the peacocks. “I was your age when my mum died, Scorp, so I understand what it’s like. Well, not completely but I understand most of it. Anything you need, I’m here. For you and your dad.”

“I’m scared. I’m scared that I’m going to walk back in there and she’ll be gone. I-I don’t want her to go.”

“I know Scorp, trust me I do. When you’re young you think that your parents are going to live forever and then one day you realize that they aren’t. That was one of the worst parts about my mum dying, realizing that she wasn’t always going to be there.” Scorpius sniffled and rubbed at his eyes with his fists.

“Does it still make you sad Uncle Theo?”

“Yeah, but it’s not as bad as it was when she first died. It gets better Scorp, it always does.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

> This won't go back to normal, if it ever was  
> It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because  
> 'Cause I have to

It felt fitting to Scorpius that it was raining today. As he clung to his father’s arm as the dirt was moved into place on top of his mother’s grave his body shook with sobs. “It’ll be okay Scorp,” his father said, “we’ll be okay.” Scorpius doubted it. His father was crying, his father never cried so that meant that they wouldn’t be okay. If Draco Malfoy was crying then that meant that nothing was right, that nothing would ever be right again. It meant that their lives would never go back to normal, no matter what his father or his Uncle Theo promised.

The manor had been eerily quiet ever since his mother had passed and his father still couldn’t find it in himself to make Scorpius sleep in his own bed. His father had even debated keeping him at home for the rest of the school year and getting him tutors. A part of him, a rather large one, wanted to do just that. He wanted to stay home and sleep in his parents bed and finish his second year with a tutor. He wanted all of those things so much. He couldn’t bear to go back to Hogwarts and be stared at because he was the kid whose mother had died, whose only surviving parent had been a Death Eater. He didn’t care that his father had been a Death Eater, he loved his father and his father loved him and now it was just them. Well, them and his grandparents and his aunts and uncles, but really it was just the two of them. It was just the two of them and Scorpius, no matter what anyone said, couldn’t see life going back to normal.


	15. Sinners Like Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill and Charlie centric, muggle au

> Now me and my brother go to see him sometimes  
> But he don't have much to say anymore  
> So we sit on his headstone with a fifth of Jack D  
> Here's to a long line of sinners like me  
>  _Eric Church, Sinners Like Me_

The first thing Bill thought when he stepped out of the car was that someone needed to break out a lawn mower. “Who the hell has been taking care of this place?” Charlie grumbled as he shut his door.

“Not the church evidently,” Bill said. He locked the car and began wading through the tall grass, the path obscured but well known by both men. When they reached the familiar headstone, the sound of a seal breaking echoed as Charlie opened the bottle in his hand. He drank straight from the bottle before holding it out to Bill. “Cheers.” Charlie perched himself on top of the headstone, patting it fondly.

“Happy birthday Grandad.” Bill joined Charlie, passing the bottle back to his brother as he did so. “Remember when he caught you drinking?”

“Ugh don’t remind me. He wouldn’t stop laughing about it for the rest of the day. Mum was well pissed too. ‘William Arthur Weasley what were you thinking?!’” Charlie’s laugh echoed throughout the cemetery before he raised the bottle to his lips. “He caught you smoking, didn’t he?”

“I nicked it from him too.” Charlie passed the bottle back to Bill before continuing. “He was in the loo and the carton was in his coat pocket so I took one when no one was looking. Took the lighter Mum used for the pilot light instead of Grandad’s because I thought that no one would notice that one going missing.”

“The big long one?”

“The big long one. I probably looked like the world’s biggest prat trying to use that to light a bloody cigarette.” Bill laughed and tapped his fingers against the side of the bottle. “When was the last time we even went to mass?”

“The two of us? Probably Grandad’s funeral, shit makes me squirm.”

“Too right.”

“That was probably the first time Grandad had been in a church in ages too.” Charlie laughed and rubbed at his right bicep where his tattoos were slowly creeping down the length of his arm, while Bill fiddled with his earring.

“We’re such heathens, eh?”

“Nah, mate, sinners.”

“Sinners, heathens, potato, potahto. Not like we aren’t in good company.”


	16. Turning Tables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavender centric, post BOH

> Next time, I'll be braver  
> I'll be my own savior when the thunder calls for me  
>  _Adele, Turning Tables_

Lavender was sick and tired of the pitying looks everyone kept giving her, sick of the whispers, sick of the assumptions. Sure she was scarred but that didn’t make her less than she had once been. It seemed to her that the only person who really understood this was Parvati, but that had always been the case. Now that her skin was puckered and rough in the places where Greyback had tore into her, it seemed like no man was capable of seeing her as desirable. If she was completely honest with herself, it stung. She had gone from being constantly referred to as stunning and having tons of guys chomping at the bit for her to give them the time of day to being viewed as a pariah. But it wasn’t just the attention she missed, it was the validation.

She hated the fact that she was the walking poster child for daddy issues, but such was life in many pureblood families that lacked a male heir. Since she had reached puberty she had found the male acceptance her father refused her in the boys at school, but now she wasn’t getting it from anywhere. They all seemed to be repulsed by her scars, by the thought that she might now be a werewolf. She wasn’t by the way. It hadn’t been a full moon that night and the only things she got from that attack were her scars and a preference for her meat to be on the raw side. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Now it felt like there was someone else sharing her body, someone stronger and more capable. Someone braver than her. She’d ran into Bill Weasley in Diagon Alley one day and asked him if he felt the same, feeling slightly less alone when he had told her that he did.

She assumed that it was her wolf, present enough to be noticed but not to physically manifest. As much as she had expected to hate its presence, she didn’t. It felt right for there to be someone else sharing the space in her mind, helping her make decisions. The best part about it was the way its strength bolstered her own. It didn’t take more than a few months for her need for acceptance to diminish considerably, and now she knew that if she needed to she could save herself. She didn’t need a man to give her the acceptance her father never had, she didn’t even crave that acceptance anymore, now she could accept herself and it was a thousand times more fulfilling than any schoolyard fling she had ever had. She had saved herself, and now she couldn’t even begin to fathom why she ever thought she couldn’t.


End file.
